


Foray into Mind Trip Inc.

by kavalai



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexuality, Emotional, F/F, F/M, Light BDSM, Virtual Reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16594202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kavalai/pseuds/kavalai
Summary: Girl works for domineering boss with dark intentions. He created a successful virtual reality empire, but did anyone ever bother to wonder why?





	1. Chapter 1

Leila walked through the apartment, tossing her keys on the kitchen table and kicking off her shoes in the living room as she padded her way down to the game room, ignoring the few boxes still strewn about. They had moved in about a month ago, all the major things were put away. Things like books, her figurine collection, his collectables, were all that remained - there just may have been more of those things than either of them needed, but neither of them were willing to part with at the same time. Maybe a storage unit would be a good idea. She'd ask him about it later. Something with good climate control.

"You're home early."

His even tone didn't reflect surprise or delight, but she knew he was by the slight indent that came to his chin and the raise of his eyebrows. He was sitting on the edge of the daybed, his long legs lounging, barefoot and comfortable, on the oak floor.

"Just came home for lunch break."

She paused momentarily in the doorway.

"Permission to revert to monkey status, please."

"You must be having an off day."

"Please?"

He gave a small nod, and she crawled onto the bed behind him, straddling him so that either of her thighs rested against his hips. She linked her feet together around his trim waist, her arms following suit easily around his stomach in a loose and familiar hug. She rested her chin in the hollow of his shoulder.

"So, Curious Georgina. What's up?"

She sighed softly. She really didn't want to talk about work. She came home to decompress and spend a few minutes with Daniel. Just being in his proximity was calming for some reason. His cadence, the ease with which he did most things. It mellowed her and helped her to slow down when she wanted to go at full speed. She hugged him lightly. Her limbs were loose around him, not tight. 

"I missed my spidermonkey, with your long limbs. I'm just the clingy one."

"Never quite understood why that is, exactly."

She shrugged. She could feel his pulse beating from her resting place on his shoulder. She'd felt it skip when she wrapped around him, just for a few seconds. As often as she did this, the initial contact always surprised him. He wasn't big on physical contact. It had taken time but the difference between now and even a year ago. She was grateful for it every minute of every day. No one was perfect, but moments like this one? Were pretty damn close in her book.

"May I kiss you?"

"You ARE having a bad day. We also discussed that you no longer have to ask."

"Please?"

She never said please this often. 

"I like being the only person who can do this." She gestured towards her entwined feet. "And this." She turned her head and kissed the hollow of his neck, and then again where his pulse beat. He made a slight murmuring sound, and then,

"There wasn't exactly --"

She knew where this was going. She cut him off, 

"People are stupid. There may not have been a line in my way but there were a lot of walls to climb."

He let out a small sigh.

"I suppose if persistence is a virtue, you have it in spades."

"Persistence is my ONLY virtue. The only person in my way of my pursuit of you .. was you. So it was the hardest hurdle to overcome."

"You did say you'd wear me down. Guess it worked." 

She didn't see his smile, but she knew that he was. 

"I always said it would be worth it. It is. You are."

He changed the subject. He avoided introspection at all costs. He also thought they might not agree on this matter.

"You came home from playing virtual games, for lunch, but you're watching me .. play games?"

"Rough morning. I needed a break."

"So..."

"So I came home to bother you, because that is when I'm at my most content."

"Ah."

She looked at the screen for a moment.

"What's this one about?"

"Cyborgs that want to take over the planet."

"Help me, Obi-wan, you're my only hope."

"I should never have made you watch those. You use them against me too often."

"It's so easy."

She rested her lips against the spot where his pulse beat ... and then she nipped him and he jumped, accidentally dropping the controller.

"Alright, what's going on? You never come home for lunch. You NEVER say please this often, and you are notorious about respecting boundaries. What are you doing, monkey's don't bite!"

"Sure they do. They ... mark their territory?" 

She tried not to laugh at her own sheepish joke, but her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She was always so careful. No one was perfect though, and occasionally, she did get carried away. 

She sighed, slowly unwinding from him so he could turn to face her. He studied her for a minute, taking in the tension in her neck and shoulders that she always carried when she was stressed. He reached out and cupped her small face in his much larger hands. She leaned into him and closed her eyes for a minute.

"Why did you have a rough morning?"

She didn't answer right away. He was running his fingers down her neck, and along her jaw. She loved his hands. So much larger than her own, but with the longest, most delicate fingers. He should have played piano. 

"Leila?"

"You know I can't concentrate when you touch me."

"You make too much of things."

She opened her eyes.

"Without even trying, you sweep me off my feet."

His preference for brevity prevented him from indulging her too long. She could play this game all day, and if she did, she'd get fired. 

"Tell me."

"It's nothing new. Just the stress that comes with doing two jobs for the price of one."

The tension hadn't returned yet, but she rubbed the back of her neck absently. He took both her wrists in one of his big hands.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. They need me to do two jobs for the price of what they're paying me now. According to my boss, he can't afford to lose me."

"They don't appreciate you there."

"It's just a job. It pays the bills. I get to come home to you now, that makes it all worth it."

He dropped her hands and leaned in. She didn't move, letting him come to her. He was always tentative at first. It made her skin get goosebumps, because in the tiniest sense, every time was like the first time. He kissed her tenderly and she sighed, opening her mouth and allowing him entrance. She linked her legs around him again, pulling him back into the little orbit of her arms.

He broke away, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Work."

She groaned, loudly. 

"But I was winning!"

He laughed wickedly, detangling himself from her and standing up. He towered over her at his height of 6'1" -- she was only 5'2", he was literally almost a foot taller than she was. She pouted up at him. He tapped her lower lip.

"Don't pout."

"But we were playing my favourite game."

"I'm afraid to ask."

"Climb Daniel Like A Tree."

"Work," He insisted, holding out his hands to help her up. "Play later."

"I suppose it will be something to look forward to." 

She slid her fingers through his, entwining them as he pulled her to her feet. As if by magnetic pull, she wrapped her arms around him for a third time, hugging him warmly. 

"Thank you. I already feel better."

He smacked her ass firmly, and she yelped.

"Get to work, missy." 

She headed for the door with a slight spring in her step. Putting her shoes back on and grabbing her keys, she smiled to herself as she left. She wasn't trying to change him, just open him up a little. His sexual preferences were a lot more vanilla than her own, but none of that mattered to her. When he let his barriers down and let her in? That was everything.

Heading to her car, she slid into the soft tan interior of her old, dark green Honda Accord.

"Okay, Judy, let's get to work."

The Jetsons had been one of her favourite shows as a kid, and this old jalopy had gotten her through terrible relationships, worse jobs, and a transitional trip from Maine to Florida. The car was almost 20 years old and it only required basic maintenance. As far as she was concerned, she'd keep it until it literally fell apart.


	2. Chapter 2

Walking into the large office tower she smiled at Wally, the portly security guard. He waved her on through and she headed to the 42nd floor. "Mind Trip Inc." was state-of-the-art virtual programming at its finest, and it was becoming more and more popular every day. Want to re-live your wedding day? No problem. Travel the world, but not leave the comfort of your couch? Easy. Live your own version of Mortal Kombat with no "mortal" side effects? That was one of the first programs they created, and one of the most popular. She preferred Daniel's games to the all-encompassing nature of "Mind Trip" -- it spooked her too easily. At least in Daniel's games, you knew when they were over. WIth "Mind Trip" it never had to end, if you didn't want it to. 

"Welcome back, Ms. Langdon."

She smiled at Lisa, the CEO's secretary. The woman was a statuesque blonde with stormy blue eyes. Lisa looked like she just walked straight out of a Danielle Steele novel with her form-fitting skirts and high heels. But don't let her looks fool you. She was sharper then the whip she kept in her trunk - and make no mistake, she could split a cigarette in half with that thing. Lisa, like many of the people who worked for "Mind Trip" didn't have a need for virtual reality. They molded their own reality exactly how they wanted it.

"Good afternoon, Lisa. Is he in?"

The CEO's open office doors gaped like the doorway to hell, all dark wood with gold finishing. Lisa gave a small nod. 

"He's expecting you."

Lisa gave her a look of sympathy as Leila squared her shoulders and headed in. She could handle this. It was just another meeting. People may have called Reza Kazemi the dragon, but he didn't scare her. He was all smoke. He had the power to create fires, but that's why he hired so many people. He just liked to sit in his tower and watch everything burn. 

"Close the door behind you. And where have you been?"

Leila did as she was instructed.

"I stepped out for lunch, but I'm right on time, sir."

He glanced agitatedly at the gold rolex on his wrist, pausing for only the briefest of moments. Because Leila was right, he moved forward with the conversation. 

"I told you, Leila, call me Reza."

"Yes, sir. I mean..."

"Reza."

His tone was firm. She struggled with stepping out of bounds. She liked to keep the roles of authority the way they were. She was all about clear boundaries.

"It's my upbringing. It's a measure of respect."

"I was raised similarly, and normally I would abide by it. But we work too closely these days. For you I am willing to make an exception. Have a seat." 

Closely? She did his bidding because she was paid well to do so. She felt a slight chill go up her spine as she sat down. She didn't want or need to be an exception to him, she just wanted proper compensation for doing the work of two people. Sometimes three. She fought the urge to squirm in the plush chair opposite the huge ornate gold desk. Reza sank into his large leather lounger that was twice his size. He was a short, stocky man with a thick mustache and even thicker Persian accent. Despite his small stature, he exuded an aura of confidence and power that made most people shrink away. He ran this circus like a well oiled machine, or a fashionable Ringling Brothers show. His auburn eyes almost burned with intensity, and Leila tried to focus on the skyline just beyond his head to seem less intimidated.

"I know I'm asking a lot of you, Leila, and I want you to know that I plan on compensating you well for all the effort you've been putting in lately."

This certainly wasn't where she expected the conversation to be going. 

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't play coy. You've been filling in for that bastard of a Chief Operating Officer I had for months now."

He wouldn't even speak his name. The ex-employee in question, Troy, had fled the building in a fit of rage, screaming how he was done with this business, and the dragon could blow smoke up his own ass from now on, he was done doing it for him. He was just one in a long line of previous associates who had cracked under the pressure. This small man made Miranda Priestley seem like Donna Reed. Somehow, Leila had avoided "the wrath of the dragon" far longer than anyone else had. When she had come into the office just now, she had assumed her time had run out and was mentally preparing for the worst, not this. 

"Yes, but you asked me to interview some applicants.."

"I realized the most qualified person for the job has already been in the position for some time now. Dismiss them. Or if you'd rather, hire someone to take over your position as General Manager of the office staff. The pay is substantial, a 10 percent increase. I'll even sweeten the deal and give you back-pay for the past two months."

Reza waited, expectantly.

Leila let the pregnant silence settle for a moment, not for dramatic effect, but so she didn't swallow her own tongue.

"Thank you, Reza. I accept."

"Good. Now, let's get down to business, shall we? I wanted to go over some of this quarter's glitch findings in the new programs we plan to implement.." 

The rest of the day passed without incident. She finished up the last of the day's paperwork, putting it in her Outbox. Her hand accidentally knocked over the small photo of her and Daniel she kept on her desk. She picked it up, smiling down at it. Her mind drifted, remembering back even further.

Years ago, he had a podcast. She never told him, but she listened to every episode. They weren't dating then. They were young and she was full of energy and aggression. The patience that comes with adulthood hadn't quite found it's way yet, and her need for answers and his aversion for those very same things kept them at a distance. She was a curious person and she did her best not to underestimate people. She wanted to get to the heart of everything. Now it wasn't so much about needing him to answer her, as knowing that he would - in his own time, when he found his own words. It was also a lot easier to be patient when she could physically see or sense that all he needed was time. When she lived in Maine and he was here in Florida, she had learned the hard way that forcing a response out of fear usually didn't go well; he would retreat into silence and from a distance, it was all too easy to freak out that she had scared him away, instead of realizing he just needed space. He was more scared of himself, and allowing himself to explore these things then he was of her.

Thinking of how far they'd come in the two years since then, and in the nine months she'd been here, she felt so grateful. She glanced at the clock on her wall and reached for her coat. It was definitely time to get home and share her good news. Reza had asked her to be in early on Monday. Several of the latest programs had glitches that needed debugging before they could be released and the deadline was quickly approaching. This would probably be the last weekend where overtime wasn't mandatory, and she intended to take full advantage of every second.

She was leaving late, again. The parking lot was long since deserted, the lights flickering infrequently around her. She quickened her pace as she approached Judy. 

"Leila, wait up."

She turned to face Lisa.

"Hey."

"Hey, congratulations. It's about time the dragon hired the right person for the job."

Leila blushed. "Thanks, Lisa, that's kind of you."

"Kind my fanny. You deserve the job, everyone knows it. Would you like to get a drink, celebrate..?"

Lisa let the word celebrate hang in the air for a minute, and Leila paused, briefly considering the proposition. On any other night, she would have said yes right away. But she wanted to get home to Daniel, and tell him her good news.

"Raincheck? I just want to get home and -- "

"Maybe next week."

"Definitely. I'll need it, something tells me we'll be here late next week."

"We're always here late. See you Monday!"

"See you."

As she turned back to her car, Lisa called over her shoulder,

"Maybe I'll show you how to use that cat o'nine tails you had your eye on. Get you one of your own."

Leila froze, keys in hand. She snapped out of it just in time to call out, "In purple!"

Lisa's laughter faded as Leila got into her car and closed the door. Passing up a night of training with Mistress Lisa? This was big.


	3. Chapter 3

"Daniel?"

She tossed her keys on the table again, out of habit. He was in the kitchen, she heard him puttering around.

"In here."

Kicking off her shoes she made her way into the small kitchenette. He was stirring something that smelled delicious. 

"I made that chicken tortilla gumbo that you like."

"Mmm. Smells perfect."

"Almost ready."

"Do you have a minute? I have some news."

"Sure."

Turning the stove off, he made his way to her and they walked together out to the living room. Out of habit, she curled into the corner of the couch, tucking her feet under her. He waited, reaching out and holding her right hand. She smiled for a moment, looking down at their joined fingers, thinking about a time when she was afraid to even ask him to hold hers. Now he just held it, and kept it. Comfort level: Expert. A warmth spread through her and she almost forgot he was waiting for her to speak.

"Leila?"

"Oh, sorry."

"Where did you just go?"

"It's not important. My news! My news is important!"

He waited patiently.

"I got promoted. I'm officially the Chief Operating Officer. The pay raise is about ten percent, and he even offered me back-pay for the two months I've been holding down the job along with my managerial duties."

"That's huge. So those interviews you were lining up?"

"Will now be to fill in my manager position."

"Well deserved."

Her smile lit up her face. He propped himself up into a sitting position against one of the arm rests. He hadn't let go of her hand, and he pulled her forward with a firm tug and turned her so that she was laying against him. He wrapped one arm around her waist. Between his long torso, long legs and long arms, she felt freakishly small next to him. And significantly pudgier. She almost attempted to squirm out of his lap, but he held her close, breathing in the scent of her black vanilla shampoo. It was just like her. Sweet and sultry, but a little dark. He didn't tell her, but it calmed him like nothing else.

"Thank you." She murmured.

"Thank _you_." 

He responded. She didn't say anything for a minute. She had a tendency to jump from zero to sixty with emotional conversations, and she could sense he was on the verge of telling her something, something important. She knew how much he loathed self-examination and didn't want to say anything yet, for fear he wouldn't say anything at all.

"I know it hasn't been easy."

She turned onto her stomach. They were stomach to stomach now as she looked up at him poignantly, opening her mouth to protest. He stopped her.

"Let me just get this out."

She waited.

"I know you'll say it's worth it. That I'm worth it. I know you believe it. But it's... I'm ..." he shrugged helplessly. For once, his ability to be succinct was failing. He was lacking the words. He tried again,

"I don't feel like dating is the same for me as it is for everyone else. It feels like something people do because they feel it's what is expected of them to move forward in life. And you, you came back into my life like this whirlwind - you feel everything so intensely, ALL THE TIME, and I just . . have no concept of what that feels like. That isn't how I'm made. But when you look at me like that,"

He paused for the briefest of moments, and she hung on his every word, 

"It makes me want to see things differently. To be different. To be myself, just .. a better version, I guess? I don't really know what I'm saying, and that half-smile of yours is very destabilizing."

"I'm sorry Daniel, it's just.. I've never heard you stumble over words before. You're usually very precise."

She looked away, laying against his chest for a minute, just listening to his heart. She wanted to choose her next words carefully. They lapsed into a comfortable silence before she spoke again,

"You make me want to be a better woman, so if I do the same for you, that makes me happy. All I want is to believe in you and support you, to stand by your side. You know.. when we lost touch and reconnected over a decade later - you quickly became my favourite. The person I wanted to call when I had a bad day, or share a funny joke with. If you are afraid of falling, I hope that I lessen that for you, because I want to be the one who catches you. Who brings a little light when you feel the world getting too dark. Someone you can't help but choose every single day. My ultimate hope is to show you how deeply you can feel, just how deeply you can love." 

She was trying not to get emotional, and she swallowed back the lump in her throat before continuing,

"My dad used to say there is nothing more beautiful than loving someone who builds you a home in their heart. Well, you have a home in mine." 

Lifting her head from its resting place, she reached out, and then stopped midway, waiting. He nodded, and she cupped his jaw in her smaller hand and then let her fingers trail down over his heart and rest there. The tenderness in her touch made his mouth run dry. He was a big guy. He wasn't fragile by any means and he wasn't the emotional type. But this girl could tumble fortresses with the power of her emotions. His heart felt like no match for her. But she felt it was a match, in every way that mattered. And she was careful with it, careful with him, because she loved him so much. He didn't understand where it came from, or why. But maybe he could just be grateful for it, and return it in his own way.

He leaned down and kissed her. They kissed for several minutes, unhurried. Exploring each others mouths. Coming up for air, he tapped her nose. 

"What do you want to do tonight?"

"Will you read me one of your stories?"

"Again?"

"I like them."

"Which one."

"The one about the girl who turns into--"

"Goo? Again?"

"It was my first story of yours that I ever read, and it's my favourite. Magic, sorcerers, succubi. What's not to like? You know what they say. You always remember your first."

He reached behind him for a book that rested on a nearby coffee table. He was an as-yet, unpublished science fiction writer. His original works about various dystopias were kinkier than most. Fantasy was the perfect place to come up with the most interesting sexual escapades one could conjure up - and he conjured quite a bit. She had his stories bound so he could read them to her. He began reading, his smooth voice resonating and stirring something inside her. 

As he read the story, he held the book in his right hand. His left hand, resting on her stomach, trailed absent-minded circles. His fingers trailed around the tie that held her wrap dress in place. Idly, he pulled it so it unwrapped, his cool fingers coming in contact with her warm belly causing her to shiver. He paused briefly in his reading, but only for a second. 

His hand trailed down, and her legs parted in a natural response as he traced her inner thighs. He didn't like to be touched, so she always asked first. She, on the other hand, loved to be touched, and often. So she acceded silently, letting him lead in all aspects of contact. It was rare for her to object, more often than not it was to ask for more. She held her breath, her stomach muscles tightening as his fingers edged closer. He loved to leave her lingering on the edge of pleasure. It was a delicious torment for them both and they revelled in it. His fingers traced her outline absentmindedly as he read. She sighed and arched into his fingers. Just as the sorcerers were gearing up for battle, she reached up and tossed the book behind him. It landed on the coffee table where it had rested before. You could say she had practice, doing this. This was her favourite way to get things going. For him to read to her, and stoke her fires, literally.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vanilla sex first, kinky stuff coming up.

He dipped two fingers into her slowly. Knowing she needed balance, his now free right hand placed one of hers behind his neck as she arched again into his hand. He bent his head, lips brushing against her neck. At this moment, all conversation seemed inconsequential. Sometimes, words were unnecessary. He quickened the pace of his fingers, intensifying the pressure. She stopped moving against him, to delay her gratification. She felt his lips spread into a smile across her skin as he added another two fingers and increased his pace.

"Fiend.."

She breathed out the word hoarsely and he fought the urge to laugh. She was so close. Clenching around his fingers, she couldn't fight the exquisite pressure and she came, his name a cry on her lips.

After a short reprieve, she turned so that they were stomach to stomach. Her hands trailed down his jeans, stopping on his zipper. She searched his eyes, waiting.

"Aren't you - I don't know. Hungry?"

"Not for food."

He couldn't resist a short laugh. 

"Now who's the fiend?"

He allowed her to unzip and free him with her eager hands, the warmth of them causing him to tilt his head back slightly as she reached for the condoms she kept in the nearby table drawer. Her hands were always hot. She hated it, but it felt so good to him. On cold days the only thing she really looked forward to was sliding her hands under his shirt. He ran cold, so her ability to warm him up worked well for both of them in different respects.

She stroked him slowly, root to tip, building the pressure. He groaned and she smiled. She wanted to give as good as she got. Tonight she couldn't wait like she normally did, but she didn't have to. He moved forward, so he was stretched out over her. She relaxed her back against the cushions of the sofa as he loomed above her. She watched his face as he deftly took the condom from the table and rolled it on, unable to resist reaching up to trace her index finger along his tense jawline. Reaching out, he took both of her wrists in one of his larger hands, kissing each before he pinned them above her head. The tenderness moved her and she arched up to meet him as he began dipping in and out of her, tentatively at first, and then faster. He released his hold on her wrists, entwining the fingers of their left hands as their bodies pulsed, the orgasms building like impending tidal waves within them. Her right hand raked through his hair, claiming the back of his neck for support. His right hand clasped her hip possessively, as if touching her kept him anchored. He pulled out almost all the way and then slid in with such force she lost her breath. Her legs wrapped around him and pinned him in place as they surged towards the end together. He came first, and he reached his right hand in-between their bodies, rubbing her pulsing clit until she came again. 

Her body stirred itself awake slowly, as if emerging from a fog. Her limbs felt like latex, all rubber and no bone. She felt the heaviness of his arms around her like the world's most coveted weighted blanket, and started to slip back into sleep when he spoke.

"Your phone is ringing."

She groaned.

"It's Saturday!"

"It's the second time. It's going off again. Can you hear it?"

She had left her phone in her bag. Grumbling, she very reluctantly detangled herself from Daniel and went in pursuit of her phone. It was Reza!

"Yes, sir."

"We discussed this, Langdon."

"Good morning, Reza. Is everything alright?"

"No, I'm sorry. Can you come into the office?"

"Of course. Give me 20 minutes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this Chapter. It felt too quick to me. The BDSM I kept promising finally arrived though, so there's that.

Leila rubbed her hands together as she waited anxiously for the elevator to get to the 42nd floor. Reza had insisted she come in, but he didn't want to go over the details of why until she got there. 

After what felt like an eternity, the doors opened. She rushed through them, her boots clicking as she made her way to Reza's office, echoing unusually due to the hushed quiet of her surroundings. She hadn't bothered to dress in her fancier work clothes due to the urgency and it being the weekend. She had thrown on a white blouse, sleeveless taupe vest, matching ankle boots and dark blue jeans. Her long auburn hair fell in loose waves around her face as she strode into Reza's office, her cheeks flushed as she waited, breathlessly for him to explain.

Reza turned from the window, having heard her boots as she was making her way down the hall.

"Thank you for coming so quickly, Leila."

"Of course. What's going on?"

He took in her casual clothes, caught up for a minute. They were so ... normal. But the jeans fit her well..

"Reza?"

He snapped back to attention. 

"Yes. Sorry. There was a problem with one of the new prototypes. We thought we had lost it altogether. I had some of our best IT guys on it, and they managed to restore it. I'm having them back everything up twice, I'll pay them through the weekend."

Leila sank with relief into one of his office chairs. 

"So everything is okay?"

"Well, it wasn't. But it is on it's way there. I'm sorry. At the time when I was phoning you, it was a disaster. I thought we had lost the prototype completely and that would have put us back almost six months in production time."

"I understand. Is there anything I can do?"

"Well not for this particular situation. But if you don't mind, there is something else you could help me with. And you don't have to do it here. You could take it home with you."

"What is it?"

"We're behind in some of the beta testing. Would you mind terribly taking one of the newest editions home, and trying out some of the latest dreamscape scenarios? Make some notes, monitor any glitches you might encounter. It would help me a great deal. We're struggling to find good creators at the moment and the few we have are a bit burnt out."

She could imagine. He worked everyone to the bone, like miscreants in a jail house assembly line. She nodded absently as she stood, gathering herself together. She had thought for sure she'd be there all day, not just a few moments.

"Thank you. It will be a tremendous help. I look forward to your feedback."

He hit the buzzer by his desk.

"Lisa, if you've returned from the copy room, can you bring in the kit I asked for?"

"Right away, sir."

Lisa entered the room a moment later, tablet and other pieces neatly stored in a small box. She was dressed in black Louboutins with red heels, a figure-fitting black pencil skit and red silk blouse. Her blonde hair was pinned in a chignon. She looked as if she just stepped out of a page of French Vogue. She handed the box to Leila with a small smile,

"Here you are, Ms. Langdon."

Leila felt her face flushing again. She felt indescribably plain and small next to the statuesque beauty. 

"Thank you, Lisa. Thank you, s-- Reza. I'll see you both on Monday, then."

She turned, leaving just as quickly as she had come. Lisa followed suit, and Reza watched the two women intently as they headed for the elevator.

"Leila, wait up."

Lisa caught her arm as she met up with her at the elevator.

"I'm going too, let me just grab my bag. We can leave together."

Leila fought the urge to shuffle uncomfortably from foot to foot. This was her friend. Her somewhat intimidating but very sweet, friend. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that?

"Okay, I'll wait here." 

She nodded her agreement as Lisa flashed her a warm smile, going to grab her things. When she approached again, they stepped on the elevator together. Lisa waited for the doors to close before she spoke,

"By the way. Since your afternoon is suddenly free, would you like to try out that cat o'nine tails? I bought one for you. It's black and purple. I got you a matching flogger."

Leila hadn't realized she had been holding her breath.

"I'd love to, actually. I could really use a way to break this tension."

Lisa rubbed her friend's shoulder absently as they descended floors.

"I don't know why you let him razzle you like that. You let him wind you up so easily."

"I just get nervous, that's all. He's not the easiest person to work for. Everyone who has held this job has been fired in such a short span of time. I want to keep it."

"Well, if you keep up your work at Dante's, you might not need this job for as long as you think. Damian told me he's had calls for you all week and you haven't answered a single one."

Leila felt herself flushing for a third time. Dante's was the biggest kink club in the area. Under Lisa's guidance over the past year, she was quickly becoming one of the most requested Dominatrixes in South Florida. The doors opened and they made their way through the main entrance, and towards their cars. Leila had parked close to Lisa this time, so they continued walking together. Leila finally found her voice,

"It's all happening so fast. Not that I don't like it, it just takes some.. adjusting."

Lisa nodded, 

"I can understand that. If we weren't so close, I'd have no idea about the lightning that snaps out of you when you have a riding crop in your capable hands. It's like a switch goes off inside you, and Mistress Moxy is turned on."

Leila couldn't hide her smile. She shrugged as she reached for her car door.

"Everyone has different sides to them. I'll meet you at Dante's. I can't wait to try out the new toys!"

\-----

Leila entered the access code to Dante's backdoor entrance, making her way in from the downstairs parking lot. She headed quickly down the familiar corridor to her dungeon door with Moxy scrawled across it. She touched the silver calligraphy reverently for a moment before entering. 

The dungeon was actually a two bedroom suite. Lisa had decorated it in various shades of light gray, purple, and black with white accents. Her favourite decoration was the jet black gothic crystal chandelier that hung in the center of the front room. It was a quiet, romantic setting, even if the sounds that sometimes came out of it seemed unholy. The front room held a bed, a vanity table and a vintage chaise lounge, with an en suite bathroom. The back room was the actual dungeon, holding crops, canes, floggers, whips, clamps, sex toys, and a St. Andrew’s Cross. All that was left for her to master was the cane and the whip. The cat o'nine tails was similar to the whip, just shorter and heavier. The crop had been the first toy she had mastered, followed by the flogger. 

She changed into a black latex bodysuit, leaving her feet bare. She left a long black wig on the bed, it was even longer than her natural auburn hair, going down almost to her ass. She would put it, her long black leather boots and her makeup on after her lesson. 

Her dungeon door opened and she turned to see Lisa in the doorway. 

"Are you going for the goth look again? You do seem to enjoy it."

"I loved Edward Scissorhands as a kid. Beetlejuice. All the Tim Burton stuff. Blame him. It's one of my kinks. And I like to listen to Depeche Mode, if I'm really intimate with my clients."

"Let me do your make-up then? That's one of mine."

"After my lesson? As you wish, Mistress."

They made their way through the front room to the dungeon, and Lisa handed Leila an eight foot long braided bullwhip, the braids intertwined with purple and black strips. She loved the weight of it in her palm. 

"This will take time. Once you learn how to master the whip, the cat o'nine tails is very similar, just a bit heavier to handle. It might take several weeks, or months, before you get to where you want to be."

"I know I'll never be like Countess Crystal. She can use two at once. But I wouldn't mind being able to split a cigarette in half like she does. That seems like a fun trick."

Lisa's smile spread from ear to ear. The difference between her friend at the office and her friend here in her element were astounding. If only she could get Leila to use some of this strength and determination outside of this room. She'd keep working on her. Someday, the two would mold into one and she might not even want the make-up or the wigs. But she'd make sure she keep the clothes. Leila hid herself too much behind loose clothing. She wasn't skinny by any means, but her figure belonged in latex. 

"Alright, let's get to work," Lisa said. 

The lesson started off easy enough. Lisa showed her how to hold the whip, and explained the various cracking techniques - the sidearm crack, the coachman's crack and the forward crack. Leila's fingers itched to be able to make a sonic boom noise with a simple flick of her wrist - but she remembered Lisa's words. This was no play toy. She needed to handle it with the respect it deserved and always keep in mind the hurt it could inflict. Lisa went over the ways to lash someone so that you didn't rip their back open... and how to do exactly that, if that's what they wanted. 

When it was Leila's turn to try the demonstrations, Lisa stood behind her and off to her right side, helping her get comfortable with the swing of the whip and how to control it. She put on a pair of protective eye goggles and Leila did the same.

"Don't want to poke an eye out on my first try, do I?"

"Please don't."

Lisa smirked, but didn't laugh. It was a real possibility if handled incorrectly.

Leila tried the coachman's crack, once, twice, several times over. Then the forward crack. After a little over an hour, she had learned the forward crack. Lisa went to a corner of the room and produced a box with multiple pairs of tightly bound socks. She threw them in the air for Leila to practice her aim. She hit one out of every ten tossed to her, which isn't bad for a beginner. 

Leila sighed, rolling her shoulders as Lisa gathered up the socks after three rounds.

"You're doing very well. In time you'll master it, just like everything else you've set out to learn."

Leila smiled warmly at her friend and thanked her for the praise. She felt so much more at ease here then at work. It wasn't Lisa it was... the environment. She always felt like someone, or something, was watching her at Mind Trip. Too many cameras, probably.

There was a knock at the door. Damian entered, his tall, lean frame clad head to toe in white leather: boots, pants, open vest against his smooth, obsidian skin. He came up behind Lisa and kissed her neck tenderly. They ran Dante's together. They were partners in life, and in crime. All the best kinds of crime. It was especially criminal how good looking they were, even more so when they were together.

"I don't know how you wear white all the time and never get dirty." Leila observed him with a tiny smile, "I trip over my own two feet just walking in a straight line."

"I get plenty dirty, baby girl." 

Damian was from Georgia, and he had one of those syrupy southern drawls that could drop most women's panties in seconds flat. 

"By the way, Ms. Byrne is here to see you."

She shook her head at Damian, unable to wipe the grin from her face.

"Okay. Tell her I'll be with her shortly."

"You promised!"

Lisa chirped, all but clapping her hands.

Leila made her way to her vanity, waving Lisa over to do her makeup.

"A promise made is a promise kept."

Lisa kissed Damian warmly before he left, waving goodbye to the ladies as he made his exit. 

"I can't believe this simple stuff you use is so effective." 

Lisa murmured as she finished applying the Manic Panic foundation, reaching for the Lime Crime lipstick.

"These trademarks never go out of style," Leila said as she fought the urge to laugh.

Despite being old school staples, they were classics that never failed her; so she continued to use them.

"I heard Ms. Byrne called every day asking for your first available appointment. She paid Damian in advance to make sure she was first call on the list."

Lisa put the last touches of smokey eye on for Leila,

"All done."

Lisa handed her the black wig and she put it on, then reached for her knee-high black boots, slowly tying the purple laces. She couldn't really explain it, but something about lacing up these boots always infused her with a sense of.. power? Purpose? Motivation? All of the above? (Maybe it was just the extra six inches they gave her.) The transformation from shrinking to striking violet was complete. She winked at Lisa as she stood up.

"My little Rose. I have missed her."

Lisa made her way to the door.

"I thought her name was Celine?"

"Oh, it is. That's just a little joke between us."

Lisa winked back, as she opened the door..

"Celine? Mistress Moxy will see you now."

\----

Celine's hands and feet were bound to the iron bedposts. She was lying on her stomach, unable to close her legs. With her every hiss of the flogger onto her back, she arched and squeezed, but her legs could not close. Her skin had a thin sheen of sweat, but it was her insides that dripped as she fought the urge not to cum until she was told to do so. The bed moved as Mistress Moxy nelt between Celine's parted thighs. The first blow had fallen on the small of her back, the second further up towards her center. The third was harder then the last two, but after the fourth strike, Mistress Moxy entered her slowly from behind with the aid of an eight-inch strap-on. Celine bit into the pillow in-front of her to stifle her moan. She wasn't sure if it was gratitude for the momentary lapse in flogging, or the ecstasy at the feeling of fullness after her clit had throbbed emptily, clutching at air. Mistress Moxy pushed in again, all the way, and Celine arched her burning back to receive it fully. When Mistress Moxy was as deep as she could go, she resumed flogging her again.

It was an exquisite torture to be flogged while being fucked. Pleasure and pain dueled together, her orgasm rising in time with the lapsing of the flogger. Celine dug her fingers into the sheets and rocked her hips forward. She was so close. So close. Mistress Moxy moved easily within her now, every movement sending Celine closer to the edge of a shattering abyss of pleasure. She closed her eyes as her vision blurred, her muscles clenching and releasing. Mistress Moxy fucked her like she owned her. And she did. 

"Please, Mistress."

Raising her head from the pillow, Celine whispered the words.

Mistress Moxy moved one hand under Celine's body, finding her clitoris and working it slowly, just for a moment, her pace quickening steadily to match her thrusts. 

"Cum."

She came once, and then again rapidly as Mistress Moxy continued at the same pace, not slowing down right away. She slowed her movements gradually, and Celine stiffened, coming long and hard a third time, her body going rigid briefly with the force of her release. Her cries echoed off the walls and then faded until there was nothing left but the pulse-pounding heartbeat in her chest and the ragged breathing continuously leaving her lungs. She lay spent as Mistress Moxy slowly removed her hand and withdrew from her.

"Thank you, Mistress."

"As always, my Rose, the pleasure was all mine."


End file.
